


Hush

by MissNMikaelson



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Detectives, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Maybe - Freeform, Mystery, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Undercover Missions, all human no vampires, elejah, potential klaroline, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-11 21:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNMikaelson/pseuds/MissNMikaelson
Summary: She was starting to feel like Mata Hari, and it was all Damon's fault





	1. The Present

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own TVD or TO.
> 
> I have a clear plan for this and depending on what people think of this first chapter.
> 
> I'm thinking that it's going to jump back and forth between the events of this chapter (present) and everything that led up to it. The present chapters will definitely be shorter until we catch up to how she got there.
> 
> I can't guarantee when the next chapter will be written, depends on the muse really (that elusive mistress) but the summer gives me all kinds of time.

Most days she liked to pretend she had no idea how she got to this point in her life. She preferred to not dwell on the choices that landed her in her current 'profession', but there was no possible way she could ignore it anymore.

She had to think about and assign the blame where it was due because there was no way she was going to take the heat for it.

Her goals had been simple. Get the job. Keep a low profile.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

She wanted to ask how she wound up on her knees in a dank alley with Elijah Mikaelson while wearing hundreds of dollars' worth of lingerie, three inch heels, and a short trench coat – that didn't conceal anything, and revealed everything when she bent over – but she already knew the answer.

She knew why the pavement was digging into her skin. She knew why her knees were bruising. She knew why Elijah was looking at her that way, and she knew the reason she couldn't talk; it was painfully obvious.

There were so many things she wanted to say when she looked up at him through the glitter that coated her eyelashes. The words were heavy on her tongue, but they were being forced to the back of her mouth, and since she had no gag reflex they were sliding down her throat.

She could see the word on his parted lips. It's the name that's not her name, and it's getting ready to drip off his silken tongue, but they were not the only ones near the alley. A single sound would grab the attention of the others who were inside and alert them to the presence that they made on the other side of the open window.

She knew better than to be caught so she reached up and covered his mouth.

He grunted against her manicured hand and she placed the blame on a single set of shoulders.

It's was all Damon's fault anyway.

 


	2. One Month Ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt inspired.  
> Just so we're clear: the first chapter was not what it sounded like.

She was late. She was so late. She was never going to live it down and it was all Damon’s fault.

If he hadn’t cheated on her she wouldn’t have moved out and into the only apartment she could afford on the other side of town; nearly a twenty minute commute at the best of times.

She might have gotten away with being five minutes late, or even ten, but she really should have been at work thirty minutes before. She could have made it and only been twenty-five minutes late, but everyone knew if you were more than twenty minutes late for work you showed up with coffee for the boss, or you didn’t show up at all.

She ran into the morning meeting and skidded to a stop at the podium, holding out the Styrofoam cup filled to the brim with steaming latte.

“Are you trying to butter me up so I disregard the fact that you’re a half hour late for work?” Caroline cocked an eyebrow and sipped the drink.

“Is it working?” Elena smiled with a tiny tilt of her head; the sweet one she had used since high school.

Before Caroline could answer there was a low wolf whistle from behind Elena’s back; fire flashed in her eyes, and it was a good thing she hadn’t had time to load her gun.

“Nice ass, Gilbert.”

“I know you didn’t just say that Salvatore,” she glared at him, but he just smirked in reply. Her clip full of ammunition weighed heavily in her jacket pocket. She could have let a bullet fly towards his thigh – or maybe a little higher – and he would have made a full recovery; for the most part anyway.

“If you have been here on time then you would know that Damon’s highly inappropriate comment is actually on topic,” Caroline glared. “We think we’ve found the human trafficking front and need someone to go undercover.”

“What’s that got to do with my ass?” Elena frowned. She didn’t mind Caroline referencing her hind quarters; they had been friends since middle school.

“Everything baby…”

“We’re not together anymore Damon, so don’t call me baby,” she snapped. Thirty seconds and she could load the clip; she had the best shooting average of anyone in the room.

“Only a matter of time doll face,” he smirked, “before you come running back. You can’t get by without all this,” he gestured to his body.

Caroline reached out and grabbed Elena’s elbow. It pained her to have to reach in her friend’s pocket and take the ammunition away, but as much as she wanted to see Elena fire one into her cheating ex-boyfriend she couldn’t let her; they were in a room full of witnesses, and while most of them might have looked the other way she knew Enzo would have been Damon’s witness for the assault charges.

“Could the two of you save your bickering for your free time? Preferably when you’re not surrounded by co-workers,” Caroline placed the loaded clip on the podium and smiled sweetly.

Elena nodded and tried to swipe back her clip.

“After the meeting,” Caroline waved her to the chairs.

She took one look at her peers and saw the only empty seat was the one next to Damon. It was lucky for him that Matt vacated his chair and took the other so Elena could sit next to Tyler.

“Now that we’re settled,” Caroline sighed, turning to the projected slide, “let’s get back to business. We know of three women, who have disappeared in the past few weeks, and after initial research we’ve learned they all had one thing in common; all three of them worked at the Abattoir.”

Elena nodded; she suspected the recap was for her benefit since everyone else in the room looked bored. Her eyes scanned the picture. She knew the club well; it was one of the better known establishments in the city. Beautifully built; it was one of the original buildings from before the fires that burnt the city to the ground a century before.

“The Abattoir is the last place they were all seen – that we’ve ascertained – so we need someone to go in undercover and it needs to be someone who has not been actively involved in the case thus far,” Caroline turned away from the screen. Her green eyes scanned Elena’s reclined figure in a lazy sweep. “How’s your dancing?”

Elena’s mouth popped open; she snapped it closed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why am I being sent in?”

“Two reasons,” Caroline held up her fingers. “One: you were late. Two: one of the clubs owners was here last night being questioned about our victims. Every female in the precinct, save for you, was in the bull pen.”

Elena decided then and there that it was Damon’s fault since she had only taken the evening off because she’s needed to move her things in to the new apartment. Oddly enough it was only a couple streets away from the Abattoir.

“Why can’t I be a bartender?” Elena tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Dancers are the ones being targeted,” Damon rolled his eyes, “and if you’re a dancer you’ve got freedom to roam over the floor and have access to the back rooms. You’d be amazed what people say while a woman is grinding on their colleague.”

“You would know,” Elena grumbled. She really wanted her clip back.

“I hate to agree with Damon,” Matt rolled his eyes, “but he’s got a point about being able to move around; if you’re a bartender than you’re stuck behind the bar. Can you dance, Lena?”

“Oh, she can dance,” Damon smirked. “Elena’s up there with Crystal, Josephine Baker, and Mata Hari.”

“Who’s Crystal?” Elena held up her hand before he could respond. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“That could be your stripper name,” Valerie grinned.

“You think I would pull of Crystal?” Elena scoffed.

“No,” she shook her head, “you could be Mata Hari.”

“I think that might be a little on the nose,” Caroline clicked her tongue.

“How about a demonstration, babe?” Damon spun in his chair and smirked. “So everyone knows you can do the job.”

“Murder is illegal,” she muttered under her breath, “murder is a crime,” she inhaled a calming breath, “murder will get you locked up for life.”

“Only if you get caught,” Tyler whispered.

Elena had to cover her mouth to hide her giggle.

“Elena?” Caroline sipped her latte. “Are you up for this?”

“I’ll take the assignment,” she lowered her hand, “but I’m not practicing here.”

“Of course not,” Caroline waved her hand. “You wait here and we’ll get you set up for the operation, everybody else: you have open cases of your own to work on.”

Everyone moved at once, anxious to get back to work.

Elena grabbed her clip at the front and loaded her gun, tucking it back into the shoulder holster under her leather jacket.

“Oh and Damon?” Caroline called.

“Yeah, captain?” He stopped at the door. “You want my help getting her outfitted?”

“No,” Caroline smiled the sweet smile that spoke trouble for anyone in her path. “I want you to attend the sexual harassment seminar. It’ll take you a week to complete, and in the meantime I’ll be moving you to the night shift where you will have desk duty until you’ve finished the class and issued a formal apology.”

“What…”

“You’re lucky I’m not taking your badge,” Caroline cut him off with an icy stare. “Now go home, and I’ll let Ric know to expect you tonight.”

He grumbled but left the precinct, knowing better than to argue with Caroline Forbes.

“If I say I love you am I going to be sent for a seminar too?” Elena grinned.

“No, because we say that every day,” Caroline snickered. She waved one hand to the door. “He’s had that coming for a while now.”

“That he has,” Elena nodded, “thank you.”

“Anything for my bestie,” she started towards her office to get the card for precinct expenses, “as long as it’s legal,” she added.

Elena laughed, shaking her head.

“You’d help me hide a body, Caroline Forbes.”

“Oh, I would totally help you hide a body,” she grinned. She pulled open her desk drawer and flashed the grey plastic.

“What’s that for?” Elena frowned at the card.

“You’ve got to get a job at a strip club Elena,” Caroline rolled her eyes, reaching for her purse. “I’m given to understand the club covers the expenses, but you have to get the job first so you’ll need an interview _outfit_.”

“You know I do have nice underwear,” Elena rolled her eyes, but let her friend pull her through the bullpen. “How long is this going to take?”

“All of your nice underwear is falling apart, or nowhere near the standards they should be. I know because I helped you pack all of your stuff,” she pushed the button for the elevator that would take them to the parking garage. “Shopping shouldn’t take too long, but the assignment might be a while. You know what undercover is like.”

“I do,” she nodded.

Elena tilted her head, examining her reflection in the mirror. She would need a haircut before setting up an interview; the layers had grown shaggy over the busy months.

“You can’t be seen around the precinct,” Caroline continued, “and you’ll need to refrain from revealing your actual job to your neighbors.”

“It’s kind of a good thing that I moved then,” Elena crossed her arms.

The elevator doors slid open and they stepped out into the garage, making their way to Caroline’s Taurus.

Caroline stripped off her jacket and stashed her badge in the glove compartment as Elena slid into the passenger seat.

“We’ll get you a burner phone for while you’re at the club,” she continued, peeling out of the garage and turning towards the center of New Orleans where they could shop without being recognized.

“Any surveillance tech, or are we going on my word alone?” Elena watched the people walking on the street. She unhooked her gun and stored it under the seat when Caroline approached the shopping center.

“Oh you missed that bit,” Caroline’s eyes lit up. “We just got all this new tech. There’s this teeny tiny,” she held her fingers close together, “recorder about the size of micro SD card. It only holds six hours of audio, but it has an on/off switch. We could hide it in a necklace, or taped somewhere on your body.”

“Where would you hide something like that?” A line appeared between Elena’s brows.

“Where your clients will be looking,” Caroline smirked, pointing to the area between her breasts. “Under your bra.”

“Isn’t the Abattoir topless?” Elena frowned.

“You gonna embrace the full job?” Caroline cocked an eyebrow.

“If I’m undercover I’ll likely have to,” Elena shrugged. “It’s cool,” she waved one hand; “I’ve got nice boobs.”

“I think you mean gorgeous,” Caroline giggled, “and if that’s the case than hide it in your underwear. They’re not fully nude. If they were then they couldn’t serve alcohol.”


	3. The Present

She really hated Damon, and for the first time in months she knew why. It wasn’t the fact that he had cheated on her, but that was part of it.

She hated Damon because he was a jealous, unprofessional ass who couldn’t be bothered to pick up his phone. She made a mental note to request a new partner the second all of this was over, but she had more important things to be worried about in that moment because she might have swallowed her words but Elijah had not.

She had to say something before alerted everyone inside to their presence, but the problem was she didn’t know what to say; her tongue was tied.

He was clearly annoyed.

She figured it had something to do with the rough ground she had pulled him to kneel on and the dark green dumpster at his back.

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist – hard enough that she couldn’t pull away, but not so hard as to leave bruises on her olive skin; though she got the sense he easily could have – and pulled her hand from his mouth.

She slapped her free hand over his mouth. The exasperation was clear in his eyes, but he repeated the action, taking her other wrist in hand.

His movement caused his knuckles to collide with the metal behind him and a hollow clang was the result; it reverberated through the alley louder than church bells.

She heard the low voices stop and knew without looking that someone was leaning on the window sill to investigate, but he didn’t know that and any hissed words would have confirmed their presence and told the people inside that there was something much bigger than a stray cat beneath their open window, so she did the only thing she could think of to keep sound from escaping his lips.

Surging forward she planted her mouth on his and stole the breath from his lungs with the unexpected kiss. For one long, never-ending moment, he was frozen; a statue pressed against her soft curves: hard and unyielding.

That suited her just fine because it meant he was still and silent, but then everything shifted. His tongue swept over her bottom lip and the world shifted on its axis.

The tips of his fingers skimmed over her sleeves and tangled in the dark curls that hung on either side of her face. Her heart nearly stopped.

It took every ounce of will to pull back and leave a quarter inch between their open mouths. She could feel his nose brushing against her cheek. Her blood rushed through her veins, roaring in her ears.

She felt his lips shift as if he were about to speak and slipped her mouth over his again, gently so she wouldn’t risk losing her sense of purpose in his kiss. She would have been lying if she said she hadn’t imagined kissing him since meeting him, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

She broke off again and found her voice; it was hoarse and little more than a breath of air.

“Quiet,” she swallowed, looking up to meet his eyes. The pupils were blown wide as she suspected hers were.

“What…?”

The tips of her fingers covered his mouth; this time he didn’t attempt to pull her away.

She strained her ears until she picked up the low thrum of voices in a renewed conversation; it was too quiet for her to make out the words, but all that meant was they had not been detected and had been dismissed as a stray cat. She poked her head around the side of the dumpster and squinted, catching a glimpse neatly combed brown hair, a crisp white collar and a dark blue vest.

In order to shift so she could see she had to straddle him. She gave no thought to the length of metal in her pocket as it pressed into her hip, but Elijah stiffened.

She gasped when his hand flattened over her spine and pinned her in place. His free hand slipped into her pocket and she knew she was in trouble.

The cold metal and plastic glinted in the dark. It was far from her standard issue Glock; a compact purple and black semi-automatic Taurus 738 TCP that held six rounds.

He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to either reveal a license that allowed her to carry a concealed weapon or to plead ignorance and claim the jacket wasn’t hers and belonged to one of the other women from the club; which he knew would be a lie. The navy trench coat she was wearing was the one she had worn for weeks.

She knew better than to lie to a lawyer.

She slipped her hand between them, pulled the ties on her jacket and popped open the buttons. Her coat slid open revealing the violet silk and black lace of her plunging bra; his eyes darted down before returning to her steady gaze. Her hand skimmed over her stomach, fumbling for the hidden zipper; she pulled it aside and reached inside.

She pulled her hand back out, impressed that he didn’t flinch away from her and what could have easily been another concealed weapon.

She flipped open the leather case.

**Author's Note:**

> What are your initial thoughts?
> 
> I do love reviews.


End file.
